White Balloons
by GleeBrittana
Summary: Angels lift me. Are you with me? I'm holding onto you like I'm holding onto white balloons. Carry Me Away! I hope that you don't break.  Sick Puppies - White Balloons Song-fic  Pucktana/Brittana!
1. Five years old

**This is going to be a very short story, five or six chapters, I'm not sure yet.  
>The main pairing is Pucktana, but it contains a very large part of Brittana as well, but that will become clear throughout the story!<br>It's M for the obvious reason I'm going to insert some smut in this story, somewhere in chapter three or four. Don't like, don't read. I've warned you.  
>R&amp;R, but mostly: enjoy. <strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Five years old<strong>

It was a very hot day that day, too hot to be outside. But Santana was, lonely on the porch of her house, head in hands and tears slowly running down her cheeks.

She had become five that day, and no-one had said even a word about it. Her parents were on a so-called 'working trip' and had yet to wake up and call her, her family actually hated her because she was a spoiled little brat and she didn't really have friends because she acted all bossy in kindergarten, so there was really no _fucking_ soul who gave a damn about her and it being her birthday.

So she sat there, on the porch, already for quite a time. There was a birthday cake inside, she had bought it with some of the money they had left for her nanny – who had yet to make an appearance, and her parents were already gone for two days.

A sigh came from deep down her tiny body when she sat up straight. She didn't want to cry for her lousy birthday anymore, but didn't seem to be able to hold back the waterfall spilling out of her eyes.

She was about to get up, dust off her pants and get inside to eat some cake when she heard the squeaking of tires on dry asphalt. _Noah_.

The Mohawked guy from a few blocks away had gotten a go-card for his birthday a few weeks ago and he could be found on the road every single day.

Santana didn't like him. _At all_. He was too self-conscious sometimes, and he said stupid things and told stupid jokes and wore stupid shoes and…

When she saw him turning the corner into her street she sighed again. He was steering his fire red go-card in a zigzag movement over the pavement and back on the street, his fist pushed into the air when he saw her and he braked his vehicle in front of her house.

"Hey Lopez, why _ya_ sitting on alone?" He asked with a smirk on his face and his body a bit slouched down his seat. In the cart hooked onto the go-card stood a large picnic basket.

Santana growled and wiped the tears furiously away. "Get lost, Noah."

His face fell for a moment before he pushed himself out of his seat and walked over to her. He saw the red in her eyes and the way her cheeks were shining as if they had been wet. _That's what she was wiping away_, he thought and kneeled in front of her.

"What's wrong?"

Santana scowled and pushed against his shoulders, giggled when he tumbled over because hurting people was actually pretty hilarious. She was an evil kid, even back then.

When Puck steadied himself again he placed his hand on her knee like he had seen his mom do so often when she had a woman talk with one of her friends, so it seemed the best thing to do. Santana actually _enjoyed_ the warmth pouring through the fabric of her denim.

"What's wrong?" He repeated, his hazel eyes locking with the dark brown ones of the Latina in front of him.

She took in a raspy breath before spilling out everything about her birthday being everything but fun. He nodded all the time, encouraging her to keep on talking. And she does, she talked fifteen minutes straight until big warm tears were crawling down her skin again. Puck kissed them away with a goofy grin.

"My dad is always away from home, even on my birthday, so I know how you feel." He confessed, his hand slowly travelled up to her shoulder which he gently squeezed.

"You still have your mom here." Santana mumbled, her lower lip was quivering again when she thought about the lack of her parents.

"True. But you still have _me _here." He said and pointed to his chest before he grabbed her hand and pulled her up and away to his go-card. "Get in, princess."

Santana climbed into the card and pushed her back against the wall, the warmth of the wood felt kind against her limbs. Her eyes fell on the basket next to her again and an eyebrow quirked up. "Where is this for?"

Puck turned around and looked at the light brown basket and the blanket that lay beneath it, neatly folded together by his mom. He smiled. "I wanted to take Quinn for a picnic but I think I now want to take _you_." He pointed at her at that last word and then nodded . "Yeah, I am going to do that."

"Okay." Santana sighed and took her lower lip beneath her teeth. It was the nicest thing someone had ever done for her and it made her change her opinion about Puck a little. Maybe he wasn't such a dickhead after all…

Puck drove her through Lima for a while before they stopped at the local park. Santana mounted out of the card and Puck grabbed the basket and blanket. They walked through the metal gate together and sat nearby the little lake.

They got comfortable on the blanket and Puck opened the basket, exposing a package of chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of apple juice.

"This is the lamest picnic I've ever had." Santana grinned and grabbed the cookies to rip it open and grab one.

"Is not! Noah Puckerman does great picnics." He said firmly. She chuckled.

"Noah Puckerman. Noah Puckerman… Puck."

"Hey, that sounds pretty good. Puck. I think I'm going to keep that one."

"Yeah, you should."

They ate cookies and drank from the same bottle without finding it gross and goofed around a bit, and Santana decided that Puck actually was kind of a great person to be friends with.

When it got dark, Santana stood up and sighed. "I need to get home."

"I'll bring you." He said and grabbed his stuff before heading back to his go-card and dropping everything in the cart. Santana got back into it, shoved to the front and rested her hands on Puck's shoulders. While he drove her home, she watched her surroundings and felt the heavy feeling of being alone falling of her shoulders. A genuine smile covered her face.

"Puck?" She asked while her fingers drummed against his collar bones. He looked up shortly before concentrating on the task at hand again. "Do you want to be my friend?"

"Sure thing, Lopez."

Too soon they reached Santana's house again, but she didn't fancy being alone again so she invited him in. "As my friend I think you deserve some birthday pie."

The boy ran as fast as he could towards the front door, and Santana giggled at how dorky her new friend actually was.

Once inside she turned on all the lights she passed from hall to kitchen and took the pie out of the fridge. Puck licked his lips at the sight of all the whip cream and the chocolate flocks and the pieces of strawberry. She cut two large pieces and climbed onto the sink to get two plates, then shoved the pie onto them and handed one to Puck.

"You know, Santana, I think you are awesome." He grinned before he bit into the pie and dipped his nose – not on purpose! – in the whip cream.

Santana smirked. "Do you say that because you got pie?"

"No, because I mean it."

Santana felt a warm flutter in her chest which rapidly spread throughout her whole body. With an aching grin she sat down on the couch with Puck and they watched a late night Spongebob episode until they fell asleep next to each other, one of Puck's arms around Santana's waist and her head tucked underneath his chin.


	2. Eight years old

**I'm so sorry for not updating earlier. I have been very busy with my exams, but it's Friday today and I really wanted to write this chapter, so tadaam. Here it is.**  
><strong>Still three exams to go, after that summer vacation (three friggin' months :D) and lots of writing!<strong>  
><strong>So hopefully you'll be patient with me. :)<br>Didn't have a chance to revise this yet, so sorry for the mistakes! **

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Eight years old<strong>

There had changed a few things by the time Santana turned eight.

One of the more important ones was that her mother now worked at home. She would be in her study on the second floor the whole day, only leaving to eat and do some of the chores, but that was about it. It meant that Santana had at least one parent at home on her birthday.

It also meant that her cousin Anna had to come over.

"_Mami_, why does she have to come? I don't like her!" Santana whined. She wore her new dress, a yellow sundress with small straps and a big ribbon around the waist. She didn't like it, but it was the gift she had gotten from her mother so she wasn't allowed to wear anything else that day. Puck would laugh his ass off if he saw her like that.

But then again, Puck was the only good thing about the day, even when he laughed with her dress.

Puck that had been her best friend since the day he first made her birthday not that awful. He lost his go-card for the rest of that summer, but he didn't mind walking the end to Santana's house to pick her up and take her to the park or to his house to play video games.

When the bell rang she quickly rose to her feet to open it, a warm feeling fluttering in her chest hoping it would be Puck.

It wasn't.

Anna was a few years older than Santana, already twelve years and a half. She had the same tan skin as Santana, the same black wavy hair. But she wore make-up, she wore nice and feminine clothes and above all of that, she acted feminine. So she was more than popular at her school. Something Santana wasn't _at all_. She avoided everyone except Puck and was completely fine with it.

"Hey Santana," the girl grinned and stepped over the threshold. She let her eyes travel up and down the fragile body of her younger cousin and nodded. "That's much better than what you usually wear." She then walked into the kitchen to greet her aunt and Santana growled, her fingers curled into tiny fists. She _really_ didn't like her cousin.

They sat in the garden for a while, eating pie and drinking soda when they heard a car stop, a door slam and hasty footsteps on grit. Puck turned around the corner, his guitar tucked under one arm and a messily wrapped gift in the other.

"Puck!" Santana yelled and got up so quick her chair tumbled down, but she didn't care the least and ran over to him. "You brought your guitar."

The boy nodded. He put both things down to bend over, placing his hands on his knees. He panted a bit, then he straightened himself and changed the place of his hands to Santana's shoulders.

"Happy Birthday, San," he grinned toothily before he kissed her three times on her cheeks. "I also brought you a present. Wrapped it myself."

She took the box and ripped the paper off of it, to reveal a box full of scary movies. Zombies, vampires, pirates, mutants. She saw many.

"I could buy them really cheap from where my uncle works. But I hope you like it."

"I adore it," she said and put the box away to give Puck a hug. The boy closed his arms tightly around her and sighed in relief.

Santana was honest. She _did_ adore the gift. Much better than that stupid cd – _Accidently in Love_, she would Beyoncé later on in her life, but not yet back then – Anna had gotten her.

"You should stay over tonight so we can watch some of them," Santana said and nodded, as if what she said was the truth and nothing else was. They walked to where Anna was sitting, Santana's mother already disappeared.

"This is Puck. Puck, this is my cousin Anna."

They shook hands, obviously disliking each other the moment their eyes locked. Santana sighed, this was going to be a _long_ day.

And it did. It was a long and tiring day. Anna wanted to play silly games and wanted to know _juicy_ details of Puck's friendship with Santana, and Puck wanted to run through the garden pretending to be something – no matter what, actually – and chase or being chased, preferably by Santana though.

That night, when they were having dinner Anna turned towards Santana. "Why is there only Puck here? Don't you have any other friends?"

Santana shot her a deathly glare. "Of course I have."

"Then why isn't anyone here?" She had a smug smile on her lips and shoveled in a fork full of chicken, not even flinching at how spicy it was. (Latina's and their use of Spanish peppers…)

Puck took Santana's hand underneath the table and gave a gentle squeeze.

"Because I only wanted to invite my superverybest friend."

"Or no-one wanted to come."

"They _did_ want to come. But I didn't want them here. I don't want _you_ here either." Santana growled, her food forgotten.

Anna raised her perfect eyebrows and giggled. "Oh Santana. Of course you don't want me here. You're jealous of me."

Santana now stood up, her hands again clenching tightly together, her knuckles white. "Why would I be jealous of _you_?"

"Because I'm perfect," Anna shrugged. "I'm perfect, and you aren't. You're more a boy than a girl, you only have Puck as a friend. And well, Puck isn't really what I would call someone fun to be with. You're parents are never at home, you don't have siblings. So when Puck isn't here, you're alone. And before Puck, you were _always_ alone."

Puck was now furious as well and got from his seat to stand in front of Anna and grab her at the arm. "Out. Out before I kick you into 2012."

Anna looked from Puck to Santana and back, then shrugged and got up. "Bye Santana. Was nice to meet you, Puck." She said with that perfect toothpaste smile and left.

When Puck turned around Santana was silently crying. He immediately rushed to her side and held her close. "Don't cry, Tana. She isn't perfect, _you_ are. Even in a dress. You're _always_ beautiful."

"You think?" Santana sobbed, she buried her face in his neck and her ragged breath caressed his skin there.

"Yeah, I think. Come on, I know how to cheer you up. I first wanted to play _Happy Birthday_, but I think I know a better song to play now." He guided her to the grass and they flopped down next to each other, Puck fumbled with the zipper of his guitar bag and got his instrument out of it.

"I wanted to sing this as a surprise to you in a few weeks, so I don't know the whole song yet. Just a part."

Santana wiped the tears away and looked at Puck's small fingers on the strings. He smiled shyly at her before he let his fingers travel along the chords and coughed before he started to sing.

_You are beautiful, no matter what they say  
>Words can't bring you down<br>You are beautiful in every single way  
>Yes, words can't bring you down<br>Don't you bring me down today_

Santana blushed heavily, her eyes never leaving Puck's face. He had a really good voice, Santana knew that already and loved it when he sang, but this was different.

_No matter what we do  
>No matter what they say<br>When the sun is shining through  
>Then the clouds won't stay<em>

While she listened to him, in her mind she was reliving what her cousin had said. And she was thinking about a way to make it never happen again.

_And everywhere we go  
>The sun won't always shine<br>But tomorrow will find a way  
>All the other times<em>

'_Cause we are beautiful, no matter what they say  
>Yes, words won't bring us down, oh no<br>We are beautiful in every single way  
>Yes, words can't bring us down<br>Don't you bring me down today_

When Puck was done she had an enormous grin on her face and leaned against him.

"You are the best, Puck."

"Thanks," he chuckled and put his guitar down to hug her again. She turned in his arms and gave a quick peck on his lips. It didn't feel strange or gross, only natural.

When they broke apart she crawled on his lap. "I want to be the most popular girl on school. Do you think that will get me friends?"

"Absolutely. I'll be there for you, okay?"

"I wouldn't want it any other way." She kissed him again, chaste and sweet, and Puck felt something buzzing in his stomach, and he knew it wasn't because he was hungry.

Santana's mother stood at the window of her study, looking down at her daughter in the garden. She smiled and looked at how Santana got out of his lap and at how Puck started to learn her how to play the song he had just played for her – which she hadn't heard, but she had seen it, and she had never seen her daughter like that. So happy and… loved.

Maybe Puck wasn't the best guy out there. But he had a heart, and it pounded for Santana. So she approved.


	3. Fifteen years old

**I know lots of you want actual smut, and no worries, there _will_ be somewhere in the next chapters. Bare with me! :)  
>R&amp;R, it's most appreciative. I love to hear what you think!<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: Fifteen years old<strong>

Santana succeeded in her plan to be one of the most – if not most – popular girls in school. She had been asked to the Varsity cheerleading squad as a _freshman_ and had been dating Puck on and off. She became best friends with Brittany and Quinn, two other freshmen that had joined the cheerleading quad – but after Santana, Santana was first. She was sure to remind people of that fact any time she could.

People moved out of her way when she walked through the hallways, her red cheerleading skirt flopping behind her. Mostly out of fear. Oh how she loved to be feared. She sneered at people and could make them quiver with one glance.

No-one _dared_ to bully her.

It came with a big price though. She couldn't wear what she wanted to wear, not even when school was over. There was the constant fear of being spotted in clothes that weren't _cool_, so she hid the baggy jeans and the male shirts in the back of her closet. She couldn't be who she wanted to be.

Puck was the only one that knew about the other Santana, but he didn't mind the hot brunette that came to school every day and sat next to him during lunch and classes. Not even in the least. He was still a guy and Santana Lopez – she was hot stuff.

Sometimes he tried to talk about it though, but Santana was sure to change the subject as fast as she could. She didn't mind making sacrifices for her image.

And her image? It was sacred.

So when Puck walked into her backyard the evening of Santana's birthday, he wasn't surprised with how much work she had been putting in the preparations of her party. Everything had been taken care of perfectly. Jocks and Cheerios were coming, even the older ones, so Santana _had_ to make a good impression and give the best party she could produce.

And it seemed like it was going to work too.

Puck made a beeline for his favorite brunette in the world and kissed her softly on her pouty lips although they had broken up a week ago, for the umpteenth time.

"Happy birthday bee," he said and smiled, waving a little package in front of her face. Her eyes lit up like that of a little child and she snatched the present out of his hands.

"Thank you." she sighed sincerely and pecked his mouth before ripping the paper to pieces. In it was a small velvet box. "Puck, is this-"

"No, no! It's not that." He chuckled, "Just open it."

She pushed the lid up and gasped. It was not a ring, fortunately, but a necklace. A thin silver chain with a little heart at it. Her jaw dropped. "Puck, how… this…"

"I know we might never end up together again, but it doesn't matter to me, okay? I just want you to be happy." He tucked a lock of her silky hair away, marveling at the feeling of it against his fingers, before he cast her his famous lopsided smile. "And don't worry about the price, I'd give anything for you."

She jumped up against him and wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "You are amazing."

"Sanny!"

Puck dropped her to the ground and Santana made a beeline for her bubbly blonde best friend Brittany, who threw herself in Santana's arms and hugged her tight. He sighed and felt his chest tighten. He saw how they looked at each other, how they were around each other, he even knew what happened in their bedrooms – Santana had let something slip about it when they were chilling in his basement.

He knew that if he had to compete against Brittany, it was already a lost fight.

People seeped into the back garden. Cheerios and jocks started to fill the pool, while others lay on the side in the grass and were enjoying the sun beaming down on them. Santana plugged in her iPod and put on the playlist she had put together for the party and smirked as the music thudded through the speakers that were scattered around the garden.

She joined Brittany on the edge of the pool, their legs swaying back and forth in the water.

"Do you want your present now or tonight?" Brittany asked as she linked their pinkies together. Santana shrugged, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. Fact was she was more than curious for what the blonde would've gotten her.

"Doesn't matter." She muttered and her eyes shifted to the Head Cheerleader that lay a bit away in her bikini in the sun, her body glistening with sun oil. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to look away…

Santana had found out lately that the female body fascinated her to no limit. Hence why she started to fool around with Brittany behind closed doors. It freaked her out more than anything else and she was afraid of the meaning of it all – she wanted to be a normal teenager girl, but yet it seemed as if that would never really be true. She never had been normal before, she was never going to be it either.

She felt fingers travelling along her spine and snapped her head back to Brittany. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." She pulled her hands back and dug up a little paper pouch out of the pocket of her jean shorts and grinned toothily. "Here you go."

She carefully opened it, much unlike how she had opened Puck's gift, and smirked as she saw the bead bracelet that rested heavily in her palm.

Brittany took it and did it around Santana's left wrist, then showed her own right wrist. Brittany had one with a 'B', while Santana's had a little heart.

"Friendship bracelets. You should never take it off, that way we'll be friends forever." Santana smiled genuinely, her heart swelling at the adorable and childlike logic of her best friend. It was such a Brittany thing to say, yet the most pure thing she could've ever heard.

"I'll never take it off."

"Awesome."

It was the last time Santana would see Brittany before she was slightly tipsy that evening and crashed into the lean body and toppled her over. In the meanwhile she had been hanging around with a few of the older jocks and cheerios and had joined a drinking game with Puck and the head cheerleader and her second in command.

They were impressed by her drinking skills and her great party and Santana had never glowed so much as that moment.

But – tipsy, Brittany, crash.

"Hmpf." Santana groaned before she looked down at the blue eyes of the person she was lying on and blushed, "Oh, sorry B."

"Doesn't matter San." Brittany said and smiled sincerely.

They both awkwardly got up and Brittany patted the dirt of her legs. Her long, slender legs. Santana gulped. Arousal shot through her and she damned her teenage hormones.

"Hey BrittBritt. Would you like to go up with me to my room?" She asked, sounding as casual as she could muster the energy for at that moment. "No-one would notice us being away."

"But San, it's _your_ party. And I promised Quinn I would swim with her in a few." She pouted a little and pressed a kiss to Santana's cheek, but the brunette shoved her away.

"Fine. Go swim with Q, I don't even care." And with that, she eluded.

Puck found her ten minutes later on the porch where he had found her ten years earlier. He sat down next to her and laid his arm around her waist.

"What happened?" he asked, he pressed his calloused fingers softly against her cheek before running them through her hair. She relaxed a little underneath his touch.

"Brittany happened. I… She…" Her walls finally collapsed and she slumped against his chest, tears threatening to spill. "I'm so afraid of what is going on inside of me. Why do I want Brittany? I mean, I…" She sniffed and pressed herself further into Puck. "I just want to be normal, but at the same time I want to be loved for who I am."

"I don't know if this is what you want to hear, but I love you for everything you are. And you aren't normal to me. You are special to me." He pressed a kiss in her hair and closed his grip around her. "Everything will be alright, because you are a fighter, San, and you'll get where you want to get."

She looked up to him, big brown eyes filled with tears and a pleading look behind them. "Come up with me, please." It was a mere whisper, but he had heard it and nodded.

They stumbled up the stairs, Santana's body inconveniently wrapped around his own. He pushed her down on her bed and knelt beside her. "I love you, San." He whispered before he kissed her slow and tenderly.

She silently cried while he made love to her with all the love he felt for her. Soft kisses on her equally as soft skin, gentle touches on her smooth flesh. He did everything so she could feel loved, and she did.

He thrust in her, all the while saying sweet little nothings and looking her in the eyes.

They had never been so emotionally close to each other, yet so far apart, and Santana broke down as her orgasm crashed through her, loud sobs racking her body. She held her arms so tight around his shoulders he could barely move, but he didn't want to.

"Please say you'll never leave me." She cried between sobs and he nodded against her shoulder. He pulled out, lay on his back and pulled her onto his chest so he could hold her.

"I'll always be there for you. Always."


	4. Seventeen years old

**I feel like such a horrible human being. I've been so wrapped up in Tumblr roleplaying (if you roleplay on Tumblr too, hit up my ask box, maybe I know you, waddup~) and procrastinating school work I stopped writing for and updating my . To make up for it, and partly also because that's what I had in mind for this chapter all along, there's a bit of smut there for my readers. I'm not good at straight smut though, so I apologize if it… well, sucks.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: Seventeen years old.<strong>

Two's company, three's a crowd – or so the saying goes. Santana didn't give a flying fuck about how the saying went, all she knew was that she wanted company, not a crowd. Her plans? Getting completely hammered on her seventeenth birthday.

Two years before she'd given an amazing party. The year before she'd gone to the movie theaters with a whole bunch of people. This year, it seemed like she was going to spend it in solitude. Her parents had once again decided to go on a holiday on their own – something that had happened _frequently_ over the past few summers, included her thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth birthday party – so she couldn't join them. While almost _all_ of her friends were on a holiday, too, that year.

Brittany was as well, back to the family folks in the Netherlands. Not that Santana really minded. Except she totally did, and at that did a poor job at hiding it. Missing someone was a terrible pain. It wasn't supposed to be as intense as it was, but then again, she wasn't supposed to feel for her friend like she did, too.

She knew things had to change. They couldn't go on like this. And there were two options, but both scared the hell out of her.

One. She could come out. Start little, with Glee club. And Brittany would be hers, proudly so.

Two. She could stay in her safe, warm closet. She wouldn't have to go through the pain of coming out, perhaps could date a nice guy like Puck – or Puck himself – and lose Brittany.

It was hard, really. And she couldn't make a decision just yet, so she postponed it and tried to push away the thoughts.

But they never really left.

And that's why she needed to get wasted, because maybe then she'd be able to stop thinking about Brittany for a few hours.

When the day finally rolled around, and more precisely the late afternoon, she was already doing a little pre-party with Puck, her company of choice – of course.

"On my bitch, who turns seventeen today," Puck grinned as he handed her the drink he'd gotten her and clinked his glass against hers.

Santana just merely rolled her eyes at that, because last time she checked, she was no one's bitch. But it was Puck, they'd known each other for so long, she knew what he really thought of her and she knew he didn't mean it, so she let it slide. If it were any other guy? Decapitated and kept on a stick in her closet.

An hour and a half later they'd drank enough to be loose and relaxed, not really tipsy yet but well on their way. Together they climbed into a taxi, though if it weren't for Puck pulling Santana into his lap she'd faceplanted the pavement. Her face would've not been happy.

She wriggled her hips and settled into his lap. Any other person, any other situation and he would've fucked the girl hard on the backseat, despite the driver being, well, right there – but it was Santana, he knew too much and on top of that he didn't want to lose their friendship. If it was all he'd ever get, he'd take as much of it as he could, for as long as possible. So, against all odds, he instead pushed her into the other seat. "Be a good girl and stop abusing your lap rights," he grinned. Puck would've enjoyed a good lay, but seeing the pout on Santana's face, which is totally not the most adorable thing he's ever seen, made it worth it.

It was a real miracle that they got there without the driver calling them out on their shit, because like a married couple they were bickering the rest of the ride. About the club Santana had chosen – "I know _so _many better ones, where the alcohol is actually cheap as fuck." – or the drinks Puck used to always order when they went clubbing somewhere – "You know that's a real pussy drink, right?" – but it was kind of adorable, and it seemed like the driver thought so too.

Santana brightened up fully when they reached the club and Puck dragged her inside.

Hot and smoky, with laser lights cutting through the thick air, the music vibrating through the floor. Santana started dancing as soon as she set foot inside, pulling Puck along to join in the dancing body of people. There was the smell of cigarettes and sweat surrounding him, but he couldn't be bothered about that when all his senses focused on the raven-haired girl right in front of him. She truly was beautiful, even in the dim lights whenever the brighter lights would not shine in their direction.

For the initial thirty minutes, they didn't leave the dance floor. Then, they got thirsty.

Two hours from that point on, they'd be seated at the bar and get a bar tender to pour them refills of Tequila shots every so often. Atfer a while, their faces didn't even contort anymore when they would suck on the lemons.

"Is that a pussy drink, huh?" Puck shouted over the music, into her ear, his hot breath tickling her neck. All she did was order another refill and lick her lips before she downed it. And damn, if anything was hot, it was a girl knowing how to handle her beverage.

There's only as much alcohol one can handle though, and by the time the club was packed with people, Santana was drunk. Drunk, and ever so horny. On wobbly legs she dragged Puck into a poorly lit corner of the area, demanding him, basically, to dance with her. Not that he minded.

It had been hot before, but now it was unbearable as their proximity got worse, her face so close to his. He could count her lashes, coal black and sultry. He could see his own reflection in her brown orbs. He could feel her breath. And before he knew, he shifted a bit forward and pressed his lips to hers. It felt amazing, the fireworks bursting through the thick fog of drunken haze.

Then everything sped up significantly, their hips molding together to the thudding beat, his hand moving to her ass to give it a playful squeeze, her needy whispers in his ear. The whole club became a blur as they stumbled into the bathroom.

As soon as Puck closed the door behind him they were engaged in a heated tongue lock again, Santana already unbuckling his belt and popping open the button of his jeans. She was eager and ready. Though it hadn't been her first choice, she was glad she'd chosen for this dress. It was easy for Puck to push it up just a little to reveal her panties. His fingers ghosted over damp fabric, pulling a whimper past pouty lips, before he pulled the panties down and hoisted her up at the thighs.

His bulge was starting to ache, but relief came soon after realization hit him, Santana's fingers closing around his member. He let out a breath, thrusting forward into her hand.

"You're eager, too," she giggled, pushing his boxers down to his knees. That was enough for him, settled between her thighs, lined himself at her entrance and pushed inside.

"Oh," Santana hummed, rolling her hips, the friction causing her eyes to flutter closed, "_oh_." Puck smirked and pressed her harder into the wall, giving her one more second to get accustomed before he pulled out completely and pounded right back into her. "OH."

He'd heard Santana moan often before, but it did things to his ego every time. Her muscles pulsed around his dick and he shuddered when she raked her nails over his back. They both liked it rough every now and again, and he was thankful for how, even when drunk, Santana didn't seem to forget his kinks.

"Right there," she muttered, nose scrunched up, her hips bucking at the intense pleasure of being filled completely, the head of Puck's cock pressing into that one spot that made her see stars.

She was pressing sloppy kisses along the column of his neck and he bit down on her shoulder, breathing in a mixture of alcohol, sweat and a smell so exceedingly Santana it made him dizzy.

She was hot and wet around her, ever so wet, which made his movements fluid, the pleasure building up inside of him slowly. Just the mere fact that it was Santana wrapped around him tight like a vice made him near his orgasm that much faster – and being drunk probably helped too – and he could hear by her breathing it was the same for her.

Frankly, Santana was in heaven. Everything was hot, sweat stuck to her skin and Puck's teeth and hot breath against her shoulder made her shiver. Not to mention she felt tension coil in her abdomen, her muscles stretching and twitching in anticipation of the release she knew was coming closer. And God, did she need it.

When she felt a rough finger on her clit, the fingertip hard because of almost constant guitar playing, she couldn't hold herself together anymore and with Puck's name loudly screamed she came, releasing around him. Her legs loosened around his waist as they quivered, her head against the wall as her chest heaved and she tried to catch her breath.

As Santana squeezed tightly around him he toppled over himself, shooting his load deep inside of her.

"Damn, that was amazing," Puck muttered; he, too, trying to catch his breath. He pulled out of Santana, though reluctant, and set her back onto the ground, pressing their bodies together. His still semi-hard cock bumped into her clit, causing her to moan loud once again.

Only ten minutes later, after Santana had grinded into Puck long enough to get a second orgasm, the both of them left the stall again.

They didn't go back to drinking or dancing, instead went out to find a cab. Santana cuddled up to his side, sleepy, eyes hooded. It was adorable, and Puck couldn't help but tuck away a sweaty strand of hair as he looked at her.

"Thank you for making my birthday not as sucky as the others," she muttered, yawning through it, a clear moment in her drunken haze.

Puck kissed her forehead and smiled. "Don't mention it."

Santana would fall asleep halfway and Puck would carry her up to her room. For the rest of summer, they wouldn't leave each other's side anymore, they'd spend numerous nights together, more often than not just reliving old memories rather than having sex again. Even when Brittany returned from her holiday.

And it gave Puck hope. Hope that maybe one day Santana would pick him over Brittany.


End file.
